27

FIORE CALLED THE OFFICE for his messages in the middle of the afternoon. Dana told him about the call from Carol Singer. Anxious to confirm her suspicion that Fiore and Singer were a twosome, she asked whether he wanted her to contact the client and change the dinner date. Doug didn’t identify the client and said he’d take care of it himself. Dana had her answer.

“Shit!” he shouted inside the phone booth after slamming down the receiver. He already told Grace that morning not to expect him home before ten. That meant she wouldn’t have any dinner waiting for him and might start asking questions if he got there any earlier.

Since his meeting with Pat Hanley at the Biltmore, Fiore had thought about her a lot. She gave him a wonderful time in bed and made it clear to him afterwards that she didn’t consider the evening a one night stand. He realized that his situation with Carol was becoming more tentative each day as the race for governor got closer to its start. If, as Sandy Tarantino predicted, Bruce Singer did become the Democratic nominee and Doug was his opponent, he would no longer be able to count on Carol as his playmate. He guessed that she would probably drop him like a hot potato if that contest for governor became a reality. Besides, he wouldn’t want to be the cause of her losing her husband to an adultery—one that could cost him his own wife as well—that risked exposure by a news hungry media covering the election. That would be a horrible embarrassment for everyone, and, as Cyril Berman told him in the limo, could well cost him the election.

But he figured that the situation with Pat would be less fraught with danger. She had a suite at the Biltmore where he could meet her whenever his campaign gave him some free time at night in Providence. They could take their meals together in Room 606 and not risk being seen in the hotel’s dining room or bar. He was certain Pat would understand the importance of their avoiding the public spotlight. And she made it perfectly clear that she looked forward to more sexual encounters with him. That being the case, Doug had no trouble changing his mind about the continuing nature of his relationship with her.

After hanging up from his call to Dana, he opened the telephone directory, the cover of which was partially torn off, and looked for Brad Hanley’s number. Several pages of names starting with the letter “H” were also ripped out of the book. Fortunately, the one containing a listing for the “Hanleys” was still there. As he dialed the number, he couldn’t recall whether it was one of the days Pat worked at the lab. When she answered, Fiore told her he had some new information about Ocean State Wire & Cable.

“I’ve got some free time tonight if you want to meet and talk about it.”

Pat was delighted to hear from him. “I’d suggest Room 606 at the Biltmore,” she teased, “but then we might forget what we went there for.”

The words brought a smile to his face. “I’ll write it out ahead of time,” he answered, “and you can read it if I forget to bring it up.” He already knew he’d score with Pat again.

“Seven o’clock?” she asked.

“Yeah, that’s good. I’ll be the guy in the gray suit with the big bulge in his pants.”

“Maybe we should change it to six,” she offered suggestively.

Doug laughed. “Great line. I love it. See you at seven, and you owe me a dinner.”

He was very pleased with himself when the call was over. “Screw Carol,” he said out loud.

* * *

“It’s your husband on line two, Mrs. Singer, and I’ll be leaving in about three minutes. Will you be here in the morning?” Kathy Walsh asked.

Carol said she would, pressed the loudspeaker button on the telephone and sat back in her chair. “I’ve got you on the box, Bruce, so don’t say anything sexy.”

“Hi.”

“You don’t have to be that careful,” she said, a playful tone in her voice. “Let me guess. You’re calling to tell me you’re too hungry to wait until 6:30.”

“That’s not it,” Bruce answered. “I just didn’t know whether you heard the news.” There was a short pause. “I guess you didn’t,” he said.

Words like that always unsettled her. Carol immediately pictured one of her daughters in an overturned automobile or being rushed into a hospital on a stretcher. “What happened?” she asked, raising her voice and leaning forward involuntarily in the direction of the speaker.

“Spence Hardiman announced he’s not running to keep his senate seat. He said he’ll finish up his term and that’s it. He’s getting out.”

Carol breathed a sigh of relief that Bruce’s news had nothing to do with Bonnie or Rachel. Still, she didn’t grasp the relevance of it to anything concerning her husband or herself. She was joking when she asked whether Bruce intended to try and succeed him.

“Dave Waller wants to see me, Carol. He’s getting as many members of the committee together tonight as he can reach. He insists that I be there.”

“I don’t understand,” she replied. “You pretty much said that you were out of it. Why do you have to go?”

“Don’t you see?” he said. “Hardiman has changed everything! I had decided not to run against Sacco. But now Sacco’s a sure thing to want to go to Washington. That means the governor’s office will be up for grabs and Waller thinks I’m the one who can win it for the Democrats.”

Carol was stunned. It was as if she were told in the morning that she was pregnant and then having the doctor call back later to say it was a mistake. In the course of the day she went from uncertainty to happiness and now to despair. She picked up the receiver and switched off the loudspeaker. Singer could hear his wife let out a deep breath.

“You know how I feel about it, Bruce. If you do this, you’ll be choosing between politics and me.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way, Carol. I’ve thought about it. I can take this on and still be there for you a lot of the time. Let’s talk about it when I get home.”

“And what time will that be?”

“I can’t say. I don’t know how long the meeting will last.”

“That’s just what I mean.” She hung up without saying goodbye.

* * *

Carol took the stairway to the firm’s main floor and walked down the corridor to Fiore’s office. She could tell from the condition of Dana Briggs’s workstation that Briggs was gone for the day. The word processor was turned off and there were no papers on her desk. She looked into Fiore’s office. No one was there and the lights in the adjoining conference room were off. She didn’t hear Frankie Scardino come up behind her, and was momentarily unnerved when he asked if she was looking for Doug.

“Yes,” she replied. “I had a client matter to ask him about but it’s not all that important. It can wait.” Carol was certain she was blushing. “I guess it will have to wait,” she said, trying to smile.

“I’ll tell Doug you wanted to see him.”

As she turned to leave, Scardino asked if she had a minute to answer a question for him.

“Of course. What is it?”

“I was wondering whether you thought Helen Barone was doing a good job as office manager.”

Carol considered the question. She immediately felt that he was up to something. “How do you mean, Frankie?” she asked.

He told her that it took in a number of things: whether Helen ever personally made certain that Kathy Walsh was at her desk by 8:30 in the morning, back from lunch at the end of an hour or working right up until five o’clock; whether Carol had any problem finding a secretary available for overtime to type something that had to get done that day; whether the message center was diligent in taking calls for her when Kathy was away from her desk; and whether the work Kathy did and her productivity were as good as the firm had the right to expect for what it was paying her.

“Kathy’s not perfect,” she told him, “but she does a good job and she’s there when she’s supposed to be. Helen doesn’t have to keep tabs on her. And I’ve got no complaints about the overall clerical support I get or the calls that come in for me. As far as I’m concerned, the office runs fine.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Scardino answered, but he didn’t look pleased at all. Carol wondered whether he was laying the groundwork for moving Janice Rossman another rung up the ladder. “I’m not bashful, Frankie. If I have a secretarial problem, I’ll speak up.” Then she decided to come to Helen Barone’s defense for whatever good it might do. “Yes, I think Helen runs a good tight ship,” she added.

Carol returned to her office. She called the Hilton and asked if they had a reservation for a Mr. F. Douglas for that night. The clerk put her on hold for a minute. When he came back on the line, he informed her that Mr. Douglas cancelled the room reserved in his name.

“Shit,” she said, and slammed the receiver down into its cradle.